


Not a damsel (distressed or otherwise)

by jasmasson



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: M/M, Superheroes, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-17
Updated: 2009-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmasson/pseuds/jasmasson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the Jonas brothers have superpowers.  Except one.</p><p><i>“Aw, Mom,” Joe said, “don’t say that.  It’s totally a superpower!  He’s gonna have to practice, and train himself and stuff.  And then totally fight crime!”</i></p><p><i>“No!” Mom said sternly. “There will be no crime fighting in this house.”</i></p><p><i>Nick exchanged a look of silent, complete agreement with Kevin and Joe.  There was no point having superpowers if you didn’t fight crime.  What would Superman say?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a damsel (distressed or otherwise)

**Author's Note:**

> Disney recently bought Marvel, which obviously caused me to ponder which of the Jonas Brothers would make the best superhero. Nick, clearly. But _then_ I thought about how annoyed Nick would be if his brothers had superpowers and he didn’t… So for Nick’s birthday I… _didn’t_ give him superpowers. Happy birthday, Nick?

***

It wasn’t really their fault they didn’t notice sooner, although some signs had been there all along.

Nick was three years younger than Joe, and so obviously Joe was going to be stronger than him, and Nick was really the only one Joe was so handsy with, so no one else really would have noticed.

Nick got bruises quite a lot, in the shape of Joe’s small fingers and bumps from where Joe had accidentally pushed him or pulled him into things, but never anything bad, and incidents more frequently ended up with Joe crying and Nick patting his head with a sturdy little hand than _Nick_ in genuine distress, and while neither had known it at the time, that had been how Joe had learned how to restrain himself and handle people.

For his part, Nick learned to just let Joe manhandle him as he chose, going limp in Joe’s grip rather than futilely struggling – let Joe hug him and kiss him and carry him over to play. Nick hadn’t thought anything of it, because, at 3, he was surrounded by people who could pick him up and move him on a whim.

And he didn’t really mind so much, when it was Joe.

***

One day, when Nick was eight, Kevin disappeared.

There were Kevin’s clothes, coming through the door in a roughly Kevin-sized shape and arrangement, and there was Kevin’s basketball suspended in mid-air. But. No Kevin.

Nick stared, and his mom screamed.

Kevin screamed too, dropping the ball, and his clothes twisted around wildly, “What? What?!”

“Kevin!” Mom yelled. “Where are you?!”

Kevin’s clothes paused in their _is-there-a-spider-on-me?_ dance.

“Uh, I’m here?”

“Where?”

“ _Here_ ,” the arm of Kevin’s sweater gave a dorky little wave.

Kevin was definitely still there. Nick resumed eating his cereal.

“Oh my,” Mom groaned, running over to Kevin’s clothes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Kevin said, all high-pitched. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re invisible,” Nick supplied helpfully.

“Ha, very funny,” Kevin said, sounding irritated now.

“You are!” Mom choked, looking and sounding distressed enough that Kevin clearly started to believe her.

“But I can see myself,” Kevin said, in the tone of someone stating incontrovertible logic.

“Well, we can’t see you,” Nick said, through a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

“Really?

Nick was saved from telling Kevin he was invisible _yet again_ , by Joe barreling through the door, and directly into Kevin.

That, in itself, signified nothing in regard to Kevin’s comparative visibility – Joe regularly bumped into things as visible as houses and cars – and Kevin’s clothes were sill clearly visible anyway, but it answered any questions about his solidity.

“Oh my God!” Joe said, staring up at Kevin’s clothes from his position where he’d landed on the floor. “Kevin! What happened?”

Mom’s shock was apparent in the fact that she didn’t even tell him to watch his language.

“Kevin’s invisible,” Nick said, helpful again.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Joe repeated, grinning hugely. “That’s so _awesome_! Did you do it on purpose?”

“No!” Kevin said, sounding panicked. “Of course not!”

Joe scrambled up, and poked Kevin, where his head would be.

“Ow!” And clearly still was. “That hurt! Stoppit!”

Joe, obviously, kept poking Kevin, and Kevin kept trying to bat him away, sleeves waving in the air.

“Can you switch yourself on and off like a light?” Joe asked, excitedly.

“No!” Kevin said instantly, then paused. “I don’t think so?”

“Try and be visible,” Joe ordered.

“Yes,” Mom said, weakly, finding her voice finally. “Do try and be visible, Kevin.”

There was a pause where everyone watched Kevin’s clothes.

“Can you see me?” Kevin said, at exactly the same time Nick said, “Are you even trying?”

“Keep trying, Kevin,” Mom urged.

There was a straining noise, like Kevin was constipated, and then… Kevin was visible again.

“Kevin!” Mom said, throwing her arms around him. “Don’t do that again!”

“Aw, Mom,” Joe said, “don’t say that. It’s a superpower! He’s gonna have to practice, and train himself and stuff. And then totally fight crime!”

“No!” Mom said, sternly. “There will be no crime fighting in this house.”

Nick exchanged a look of total agreement with Kevin and Joe. There was no point having superpowers if you didn’t fight crime. What would Superman say?

“I can actually tell, you know,” Kevin mused. “I didn’t notice, but my vision was slightly different, maybe a little shadowed.”

“Try and switch it on again!” Joe said.

“No,” Mom moaned. “Don’t.”

“But Mom,” Joe said, persuasively, “he didn’t do it on purpose before, so it could happen any time if he doesn’t learn how to control it, and someone could see and then the government would come and take him away and do awful experiments on him and pull his insides out and, and suck out his _eyes_ or something.”

Nick made a face at his cereal and stopped eating.

“I think Bush would really do that,” Kevin said, earnestly, and it was clear his mom agreed from how pale she was.

Mom was very heavily pregnant; they probably shouldn’t upset her anymore, which Nick communicated to his brothers with his eyebrows.

“We’ll go upstairs and practice,” Joe told Mom, snagging Kevin’s sleeve and dragging him out, “you’ll never have to see him invisible again.” Joe snickered, because he was a dork. “Or, like, _not_ see him. C’mon Nick.”

Nick downed the last of his cereal and drank the sweet milk left in the bowl and then followed them upstairs, because practicing invisibility seemed like a pretty fun way to spend a Saturday morning.

“You know,” Kevin was saying as Nick entered his room, “I think this has been coming on for awhile. I’ve always been able to make myself, you know,” he shrugged, “ _inconspicuous_. When I’ve been in trouble, or wanting to stay up late, or slip about unseen, I’ve been able to get away with it.”

This, actually, struck Nick as true.

Kevin had always been able to sneak cupcakes and cookies off the cooling tray from more-or-less under his mom’s nose, when the merest glance of Joe or Nick had quickly caused Mom to shoo them away. Kevin had usually shared, though, because he was an awesome brother.

Joe was nodding thoughtfully, clearly remembering the same things, and while Nick thought about it, Kevin totally always won hide-and-seek.

“You’ve probably always had it, and now you’re getting old it’s developing too,” Joe said, which seemed pretty sensible to Nick. Kevin was definitely getting taller, and Nick was pretty sure he’d seen a few wispy hairs on Kev’s chest.

“Actually,” Joe said, looking suddenly a little shy “I’m kind of strong.”

“What?” Nick asked, frowning.

Joe shrugged, “I’m strong? You know when the door broke last week?”

Nick nodded; Dad had not been happy.

“I was kind of excited about my new record on Mario Kart and wanted to show you, and, uh, pulled the door handle off. It was an accident, but, it kind of happens a lot.”

Nick frowned again, thoughtfully. Joe did break a lot of things, but Nick had always just assumed he was clumsy.

“And the other week? When you wouldn’t play with me because you wanted to read that book instead? I went outside to play on my own and was kind of angry and threw the baseball really hard and it totally burst through the fence and went a really long way out in the field, so far I couldn’t find it.”

There _was_ a mysterious roughly-baseball-sized hole in the fence.

“You didn’t say,” Nick said, pouting.

Joe shrugged, “It wasn’t important, and I can’t do it all the time or anything. Maybe when I get to thirteen I’ll really be able to control it, and be like the Incredible Hulk!” Joe looked all excited and puffed up his skinny chest.

“Let’s see if Kevin can control it first,” Nick said, looking at Kevin, ignoring the fact that he was pretty sure the Incredible Hulk _couldn't_ control it. “Can you, Kevin?”

Kevin took some deep breaths and then screwed his face up comically for a moment before _popping_ out of sight.

“Ha!” Joe said, clapping Kevin on his shoulder, on-target only because his clothes remained visible. “That’s so awesome, Kevin!”

Kevin _popped_ back into sight, grinning hugely.

“We’re gonna be superheroes!” Kevin said happily.

“No, guys, you need to be careful,” Nick said quickly, visions of Kevin or Joe with their eye-sockets empty flashing before him. “Make sure no-one else sees. Promise me.”

“We promise, Nicky,” Joe said quickly. And then, “I wonder what your superpower will be?”

Nick hoped it would be something really cool, like shooting fire out of his eyes, or controlling the weather. Halle Berry had made a big impression on him as Storm. She’d been amazing.

As Nick was pondering this, Joe grabbed him round the waist, pulling him down onto the floor and pinning him there, easily, ignoring his yelp.

“You worry too much, Nicky,” Joe said, grinning down at him, and poking his forehead. “Turn that frown upside-down!”

And then he tickled Nick mercilessly, while Nick squirmed and batted ineffectually at his hands and laughed until Joe forced him to say Joe was the king of the world, and generally awesome, and Nick’s favorite brother, before letting him go and leaving him panting helplessly on the floor.

When Nick controlled the weather, he was totally going to make a little rain cloud follow Joe around all day.

***

When Kevin was 13 he learned how to make himself invisible. When Joe turned 13 he lifted the car over his head. When Nick was 13, he got diabetes.

Nick had been becoming more and more aware that he wasn’t showing any signs of superpowers, and that he was getting pretty thin. He was maybe holding out some last vestiges of hope that this was his body prepping to make him like Mr Fantastic or something, but that proved not to be the case.

He’d ignored Joe’s worried looks and queries until Joe had finally called on a higher power (Mom) and Nick was forced to go to the doctor.

Nick came back from the hospital and ignored everybody. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to _think_ about it.

He threw himself down on his bed and buried his face in the pillow. He’d so lost the puberty lottery. Sure, he had pretty good skin, but also blood that tried to kill him and _no superpowers_. Nick hated losing.

Of course, no way was Joe going to leave him alone.

“Nick. Nick. Nicky.”

Joe slid into bed behind him and moved Nick’s limbs so Nick was on his side and Joe was wrapped tightly around his back. Nick let him, used to being manhandled by Joe, and now he needed to become resigned to the fact that he was never going to be able to pay him back by pinning him to a wall with the power of his mind or anything.

Nick’s eyes prickled and he turned his face into the pillow. He was never going to be like his brothers.

“Hey, it’s no so bad,” Joe said. “It’s really manageable; loads of people live perfectly normal lives.”

“Yeah, well loads of people aren’t going to have to inject themselves with drugs every day of their lives, too,” Nick snapped. It could be worse, sure, but it was still pretty awful.

“True, true,” Joe mused thoughtfully. “At least we know who to eat first, now, if we’re ever in a plane crash in the artic with no food.”

“What?!”

“Well, it’d have to be you, wouldn’t it? Because you’d die without insulin right? It’d only be sensible.”

“Hey! Maybe I’d harvest your insulin,” Nick said, insulted.

“You don’t know how to do that,” Joe said, comfortably, and Nick was so googling ‘insulin harvesting’ tomorrow, “and it’d be really inefficient, anyway, because it’d only last you a few days, right? You wouldn’t kill me for just a day of life would you?”

“And, what, my carcass is going to sustain you indefinitely?” Nick said.

Joe paused for a moment. “You’re right. We’ll eat Kevin.”

Nick snorted a giggle. And then punched Joe on the arm. He didn’t want to be giggling right now.

Nick sighed, and Joe buried his face in the back of Nick’s neck.

“It really will be OK, you know,” Joe murmured against his skin.

Nick nodded, tired.

“I know.” He paused, listening to Joe’s steady heartbeat behind him. “I’m not going to get any superpowers, you know.”

“I know,” Joe nodded. “You’ll just have to be our sidekick. Like Robin.”

Nick groaned.

“Robin was lame.”

Since Kevin had turned invisible five years ago, they’d watched every single superhero show and movie and read every comic they could get their hands on and Nick could categorically say that Robin? Was _lame_.

“I don’t know,” Joe said, and the thread of amusement in his voice was all the warning Nick had before Joe was suddenly attacking his chest and _pinching_ his nipples, “Chris O’Donnell had some pretty sweet nipples on his costume.”

Nick squawked, and batted Joe’s hands away. Joe’s sense of appropriate behavior was so very, very broken.

By the time he’d gotten Joe to let him go, he was giggling breathlessly.

He fell back against the bed, panting, and the stresses of the day got to him and a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. He yawned loudly and Joe laughed softly, pressing him back into the bed and kissing his forehead, before settling down next to him.

“You can’t really be superheroes anyway,” Nick said, maybe a little meanly. “Neither of you are invulnerable or anything.”

Joe still pouted when Nick pinched him, and regularly bruised himself by being a clumsy idiot, and only this week had given himself an epic paper cut, which he’d been in apparent danger of dying of blood loss from if you believed the enormous fuss he’d made about it.

“So,” Nick continued, “You can’t really _fight_ crime, or anything, because a criminal would totally just shoot you. You can’t really do anything and all Kevin could do is sneak around invisible _looking_ for crime, and then call the cops. It’s not exactly _Superman_.”

“Whatever,” Joe said, unconcerned, snuggling in closer to Nick. “I guess we’ll just have to settle for being a super rock band. Our powers are still totally awesome.”

They really were. Nick hated his life.

Still, at least Frankie was totally normal.

***

“Nick,” Frankie said, stretching up on his toes to try and reach the Cap’n Crunch on the top shelf. “Can you get the cereal for me?”

Nick sighed, putting down his pencil and music notes. Joe hid them out of Frankie’s reach on purpose, trying to keep them all for himself. In truth, neither of them should really have that much sugar – Joe should probably stay away from sugar just as much as Nick, but for completely different reasons.

“Oh! Hey! Never mind!” Frankie said suddenly, as he levitated up a foot in the air and reached it himself.

Nick banged his head on the table, as Frankie cheerfully tucked into his breakfast.

***

They were getting much more successful than Nick’s wildest dreams. At just sixteen he was at a level of fame and success that most people would never attain.

It was pretty exhausting, and often the crazy schedule sent his sugar levels totally out of whack, but it was absolutely amazing.

Nick wondered if maybe they sounded trite and false when they talked about how grateful they were, but they all just really meant it.

Sometimes, sometimes Nick had no idea where he was from one day to the next, and he really hadn’t known he was smack on top of the San Andreas fault until the earth shook around him.

They were at an old farm, filming, and Nick, by chance, had been on the top floor of the open barn with his guitar, while Joe sat on a swing and Kevin on a tractor (Kevin had won the coin toss).

The barn really wasn’t built to withstand quakes, a bit of an oversight given its location, but Nick really didn’t have time to think about those things as it started to collapse and take him with it.

He heard some screams, and then everything went black.

***

“Nick!” Joe’s voice was rough and frantic. “Nick! Where are you?”

Nick groaned. It was dark, and there was something just inches from his face. He squinted at it in the dusty air and decided it was the roof of the barn, held off him by just enough rubble around him. He’d been very lucky.

“I’m OK,” he called out, as Joe’s frantic voice continued to call for him. “I’m OK!”

And, wow, that was a lie, he realized as he moved, because everything ached to the bone, but, God, the pain in his ankle was sharp and hot.

“Where are you?” Joe yelled, and Nick could hear the sounds of rubble being moved.

“Here,” was all the direction Nick could really give, but it seemed to be enough because suddenly the roof that had been over him was moving back and Nick could see Joe holding it before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Jesus, Joe,” Nick hissed. “You shouldn’t be doing that.”

Joe shrugged, his face ashen as he reached for Nick, “They’re all family anyway,” he said and Nick could see Big Rob and Garbo and JT over his shoulder and, yeah, OK, they were.

***

“I thought you were dead,” Joe said, his voice still strained and quiet.

Nick had suffered Joe carrying him into the hospital, even though Big Rob was _right there_ , looking like he could swing Nick over his head like a _baton_ if Nick even really needed to be carried, while Joe looked like a stiff breeze would knock him over, but no one seemed to have the heart to tell Joe he should put Nick down, even if the photos of Joe carrying Nick so easily might look a bit odd.

Joe had refused to let anyone else help Nick on his crutch, supporting him into their hotel room, pushing him down on the bed and climbing in with him.

“I’m fine,” Nick said, for roughly the nine-millionth time that day. “It’s not even broken, just twisted.”

Joe nodded, looking no more comforted than he had before.

“There’s so many things we’ve still got to do,” Joe said, seriously.

“I know, Joe, but I’m only sixteen, and we’re doing pretty well. Seriously.”

“Not _work_ ,” Joe said. “Just. _Real_ stuff.”

“Like what?”

Joe’s mouth twisted and he stared at Nick for a moment before apparently coming to a decision.

“Like this.”

Joe took Nick’s face in his hand suddenly and pressed his mouth to Nick’s.

Nick gasped and Joe took the opportunity to slip his tongue in tentatively. Nick was paralyzed for a moment, blood rushing in his ears, and then he pushed Joe away.

Joe went easier than he ever had, moving up and out of contact, bracing himself above Nick on the bed, but not away.

“Don’t freak out!” Joe said, sounding pretty panicked himself. “I just. I needed to do that.”

“What. What…” Nick’s face was hot and his cock was hard and his lips tingled where Joe had kissed them.

“We can forget it,” Joe said, anxiously, “if you don’t want to.”

“What…” Nick said again. He licked his dry lips, and Joe’s attention _snapped_ there. “What do you want?”

“I just want you to let me touch you,” Joe whispered, leaning down again and brushing his lips against Nick’s. “Will you let me touch you?”

Nick had always let him, and that something familiar calmed him.

“Yeah,” he said. It came out all hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes. OK.”

Joe’s smile was blinding and he kissed Nick again and again.

He pulled Nick’s clothes off, and his own, careful of his strapped up ankle, and settled between his thighs.

Joe kept kissing him, and Nick felt dizzy with it, lips hot and raw, until Joe moved down his body to his stomach, staying there and kissing it.

Nick was sensitive about his still-soft belly and pushed at Joe’s head, but Joe just grinned up and blew a raspberry on his stomach.

“Get off,” Nick said, face flaming with embarrassment.

“Let me,” Joe said again, kissing the soft flesh. “So sweet and soft here.”

Nick closed his eyes, because, jeez, that was not a great description for him, but Joe seemed to like it and kissed him again before moving down to where Nick’s cock stood stiff.

And if Nick had been embarrassed before, he thought he’d spontaneously combust.

He gasped when Joe ducked down to mouth at the head of his dick and his hips jerked forward.

Joe pulled back, and Nick stammered the beginnings of an apology, but Joe ignored him and just grasped his hips firmly and tried again.

Nick writhed futilely in Joe’s strong grip, while Joe mouthed softly, a little tentatively at Nick’s cock. He didn’t take much in, but it was definitely enough for Nick, and he really wasn’t going to last long.

“Joe, I’m gonna…” and Joe pulled back, letting go of Nick’s hips and using one to jerk Nick off, and the other wrapped around his own dick.

Nick panted and stared up at Joe’s mouth, red and full and beautiful from _Nick’s cock_ and closed his eyes and lost it.

He opened them again to the splatter of more liquid on his belly and he looked up at Joe with an almost-glare, but Joe grinned happily down at him and went in for a kiss.

“Love your mouth,” Joe whispered, against Nick’s lips. “You next time, OK?”

Nick thought about that, and his own dick gave a game little twitch.

“How about now?”

***

“Nick, Nick, wake up!” Joe was whispering but in an incredibly loud and excited whisper, shaking Nick’s shoulder.

“Wha…” Nick mumbled, blinking blearily at him.

Joe was dressed, all in black, his face a little red and wind chapped, and his hands were cold.

Like most nights over the past six months since they’d started having sex, Joe had been naked and pressed up against Nick’s back when Nick had fallen asleep after eager sloppy blowjobs… Nick glanced at the clock… three hours ago.

“Joe!” he sat up quickly. “Where have you been?!”

“Nick, Nick, don’t be mad,” Joe said, still sounding excited.

“Where have you _been_?”

“I went out looking for people to help.”

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking, you know, that I really could help people. Like, I got to you quicker in the earthquake because I’m so strong, and maybe I could help other people.”

“Joe! What if someone saw you?”

“No one saw me, except this woman who had a flat tyre, and I helped her because her wheel was stuck.”

“Christ!” Nick swore. “Joe…”

“I know, I know, it’s not exactly saving the world,” that totally wasn’t what Nick was going to say, “but it’s helping people, right? I think I really want to help people. I think I really _should_ help people.”

Nick breathed heavily.

“OK, OK, just don’t do it again Joe, seriously, it’s too risky.”

“But Nick…” Joe pouted.

“Promise,” Nick said, sternly.

“Fine,” Joe sighed and collapsed back down on the bed next to him, stripping off his, black for inconspicuousness probably, jacket. Except Nick caught a glimpse of “Burnin’ Up” emblazoned in diamante on the breast pocket.

“Very incognito, Joe,” Nick said, with a smile, and settled back down.

He thought about it, though, all night with Joe pressed against him.

Maybe they should be fighting crime?

Nick, and Mom and Dad obviously, had vetoed crime fighting frolics because of how dangerous it was, and Nick couldn’t shake the image he had of Joe leaping out from behind something and doing ludicrous kung-fu moves in the face of criminals who just watched him in bewilderment, before shooting him in the heart.

Still, though. Still. Batman wasn’t invulnerable, and he fought crime. He had that suit, though…

… and wasn’t Nick a millionaire, too?

***

He told Disney they needed some additional costumes for the stage show – although _what_ they must think they were doing Nick had _no_ idea – and Disney hooked them up.

“Here,” Nick said, opening up the hotel room. “Take a look at these.”

“Oh my _gosh_ ,” Joe said. “Where did you get this?”

So, Joe’s costume looked a lot like Batman’s, and maybe that’s what Nick had had in mind when he’d talked to the designers. They’d stopped short at bat ears, though, thankfully.

He hadn’t had it in all black though, because Joe liked colors. He’d stayed away from pink, and not just because it would have been extremely camp, what with the rubber, but because it needed to be easy to hide. He’d gone with dark, forest green and black, and, after a few moments of wrestling with his conscience, hadn’t had nipples put on the chest.

“Why is Joe’s so much cooler than mine? And why is mine so _small_?” Kevin asked, holding out his hand with the tiny scrap of material that made up his costume.

“It’s got to be like that, Kevin,” Nick explained. “It needs to be really stretched when you’re wearing it, so it will _spring_ away when you release it so you’re immediately invisible as soon as you turn and not given away by your clothes. There are two clips - one on each shoulder - that you can just pull and the costume will spring off so you can't be seen. And there are some totally transparent shorts here, too, so you’re not just _flapping in the wind_ there.” Nick had recently spent more time thinking about Kevin’s junk than he really liked.

“There are six costumes here already for you, Kevin, because you’ll probably go through them really quickly. You’ll need to change as soon as you go into any dangerous situation because, obviously, you don’t have a protective suit – your protection is not to be seen. Joe’s suit has pockets to keep spares in.” Nick grinned. “They don’t take up much room.”

Joe laughed, and Kevin punched him, gently, but he was smiling.

“ _Your_ suit though, Joe,” Nick continued, “is _not_ disposable. It was _very_ expensive.” Joe nodded and his eyes widened as he picked it up.

“And it’s very heavy,” Nick continued. “Sadly, we’re just millionaires not Bruce Wayne billionaires and getting it any lighter while keeping it protective is just too expensive. No batmobile either, I’m afraid.”

“There’s radio scanner equipment here for police frequencies,” Nick didn’t know why Disney even had those, and didn’t want to, “and you’ve got communication equipment. Kevin’s is transparent. There’s headgear with a mouthpiece and earplug so you guys can talk quietly so Kevin doesn’t give his position away by talking.

“And I’ve enrolled you both in a Karate class, and booked a shooting range.”

Nick shrugged, “I think that’s it.”

“That is so _awesome_ ,” Kevin said, hugging Nick. Nick felt Joe’s arms close around him too, and they stood for a moment, hugging each other until Kevin broke away, beaming.

“I’m gonna go call Danielle,” he said, heading out of the room.

As the door closed, Nick felt Joe’s arms tighten around him, and had time to brace himself before he found himself flat on his back, hands pinned by the side of his head.

Joe grinned down at him.

“You know,” Nick said, “this manhandling thing is annoying, not sexy.”

Joe laughed, totally unconcerned.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a little bit sexy,” he said, leaning down for a kiss.

Nick said nothing, kissing back, but yeah. It was.

***

 _Three months later_

Nick listened to the three-way radio as he waited for Joe and Kevin to get back. Things seemed to be going well, like they had been for the past three months, when criminals were initially confused by superheroes in their midst. They were starting to understand how useless fighting was.

Kevin usually disabled their cars, so they couldn’t get away, and stole their weapons when he could, and there was no real point fighting Joe in his suit, weapons or not, so things were going pretty well.

Nick was starting to think about how to ensure the Superduo weren’t linked in anyway to the Jonas Brothers’ touring stops, and regretfully concluded it probably was helpful in that respect that they were a crime fighting _duo_ not trio.

There was still a lot to do.

They were really in need of some kind of suitable transport; Nick felt Kevin needed something to keep him off infrared scanners – although it wasn’t a problem they’d encountered yet; and sooner or later Frankie was going to start actually flying instead of just hovering. He was going to need a suit that was both protective _and_ lightweight.

They were really going to need a lot of money.

Nick picked up his guitar and started strumming the first few bars of a new million-selling song.

***

Comments are lovely, and if you’d like to comment please feel free to do so here or on [this fic at livejournal where it was originally posted ](http://jasmasson.livejournal.com/106158.html) as you prefer.


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